


The Time of the Wizard

by jscott89



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-14 06:54:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5733829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jscott89/pseuds/jscott89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the summer after Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry is dealing with his grief after Sirius's death until he wakes up to discover Tom Riddle never existed. Fixed moments in time have been disrupted. Will Harry discover who or what changed his timeline before it is too late? Will Dumbledore's friend who travels in a blue box hold the answers to fixing time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Time of the Wizard

By any definition one could think of, Harry Potter was not a normal boy. Even a few moments of looking at him, an aura of something being unusual seemed to radiate from him. His unruly black hair seemed to have a mind of its own. Regardless of the effort put into it, it simply would not lay flat, nor allow itself to be controlled by any means known to humanity. 

When his hair cooperated, and parted just right, one could make out a lightning shaped scar. It was no ordinary scar received by any ordinary way. It revealed the truth of being Harry Potter. He had received the scar when he was a year old when the most evil wizard in known history, Lord Voldemort, attempted to kill Harry. The curse had rebounded upon Voldemort and ended the reign of terror that Voldemort had launched on Wizard Britain some thirteen years before.

Harry had known none of this until his eleventh birthday. He had been told that his parents, Lily and James Potter, had died in a car crash and he had been given to his maternal Aunt, Petunia and her husband Vernon to be raised. On that eleventh birthday, after weeks of receiving letters addressed to him in the most peculiar ways, Hagrid, the giant Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts, had literally knocked the door down in the cottage the Dursley's had fled to. 

That had been four years, eleven months, and a handful a days before. In that time, Harry had attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy and had confronted Voldemort four times. Each time, Harry had made a narrow escape. However, there had been causalities. The year before at this time, Harry's thoughts had been on the brave and kind Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory who Peter Pettigrew had killed on Voldemort's instruction. “Kill the spare!” Voldemort had screeched into the night air in that graveyard in Little Hangleton. 

Now, his thoughts were of his godfather, Sirius Black. Harry had known Sirius less than two years. It wasn't until Harry's third year at Hogwarts that he had learned of Sirius, or what was thought about Sirius, for he had been imprisoned for twelve years in the feared wizard prison, Azkaban. The world believe he had betrayed Harry's parents to Voldemort, and with Voldemort's fall, had killed their other friend Peter Pettigrew, and a score of other by-standers, before he had been captured.

Harry and his best friends Ron and Hermione had discovered the truth behind the events, Pettigrew, Wormtail, had betrayed the Potter's and had framed Sirius. Pettigrew had spent twelve years as a rat with Ron's family before he was forced out of his hiding. A year later, Wormtail had been instrumental in helping in Voldemort regain a body. While Harry had discovered Sirius was innocent, the escape of Wormtail, his godfather was forced to flee on an escaped hippogriff

Three weeks ago, with visions of Voldemort torturing Sirius in the bowls of the Ministry for Magic. Harry and his friends had rapidly made their way from Hogwarts to the Ministry in London, only to discover that the visions were planted by Voldemort to get Harry to take the prophecy. 

The end result had been a battle in the death chamber at the Ministry and the death of Sirius. Sirius had been dueling his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. “Come on, you can do better than that!” Sirius had yelled, a smile still on his face when Bellatrix's spell had hit her cousin in the chest. 

Harry, who felt like he had hardly been asleep before it all came back to him, flooding his mind with all that he had felt. His breath quick, the smell of scorched wood and rock, the loud bangs of spells and reverberations, the panic, the flashing lights, and Sirius gracefully falling back into the veil. 

Harry woke with a start and gulping for air. Since his return to Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry had yet to have a night when he didn't wake up from dreaming about that terrible night where his own stupidity had lead his friends into that trap and Sirius's death. It haunted him as surly as the Bloody Baron haunted the dungeons of Hogwarts. 

His eyes started to sting, it had become a nightly ritual. He would dream, he would awake gasping for air, his eyes would sting, and he would blink back the tears. Harry wasn't sure how long he sat their in the darkness of his room, his breathing the only sound in the otherwise still house. Finally, he felt the welcome relief of heavy eyelids and slowly started to feel himself be pulled under. As sleep finally took him into her arms, Harry thought he heard a voice, perhaps his own, whisper, “I am so sorry,”


End file.
